


The One Where He Comes for Him

by rhiannonhero



Category: Queer as Folk (US)
Genre: M/M, post-s4
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-08
Updated: 2010-01-08
Packaged: 2017-10-05 23:39:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,310
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/47293
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rhiannonhero/pseuds/rhiannonhero
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He comes for him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The One Where He Comes for Him

Brian barely looked up from the paper he was pretending to read as Hunter slid into the booth across from him. He considered making a snide remark about not being a member of the foundling's new family and thus not obligated to be near him, but chose to just remain silent. The effort of getting the kid to buzz off was more than he felt like putting out. Besides, he was almost done with breakfast anyway.

"You should call him," Hunter said, placing his hands on the table between them, palms up, almost as if he were making an entreaty and not issuing a statement.

"You should mind your own business."

"Call. Him." Hunter intoned solemnly. "You'll regret it if you don't."

"And, what, pray tell, would the Littlest Hustler know about it?"

Hunter rolled his eyes, letting Brian know that the barb went right through him. "I know that if you're half as miserable as you look, then you're just about to slit your wrists and go all 1967 on our asses."

Brian returned to his breakfast, ignoring Hunter's comments.

"Look. I got dumped, right? By the girl of my _dreams_," Hunter said firmly.

"Young love. Such a fucking beautiful thing."

"And I called her, you know? I fucking dropped by her house. I followed her home from school--"

"Stalking her? Not exactly the way to a girl's heart."

"Though, I hear it's a perfectly good way to your dick." Hunter waved off any more comments in that direction by continuing, "No, fuckwad. I had to do it because I needed to tell her how I felt. I needed to make sure that she knew she was worth it to me."

Brian blinked at him, keeping his face blank.

Hunter slapped his palms against the table, got in Brian's face and said slowly, "Because I knew I'd regret it if I thought she didn't know. And my life is too fucking short for regrets." Hunter got up and walked away, saying over his shoulder, "And so is yours."

Brian stared straight ahead. Well, score one for the Littlest Hustler.

::::

Brian pressed in the appropriate numbers and let his finger hover over the send key. After a delay of about twenty seconds, he cleared the number off the screen without placing the call and leaned back in his bed, staring up at the ceiling.

He didn't like thinking about the last conversation he'd had with Justin. The one where Brian had said, "Enjoy your stay in sunny L.A., call me when you come home. Oh, and by the way, in case you haven't figured it out yet, Sonny Boy, you're never coming home. I'll send your shit by Fed Ex." The phone call where Brian cut out his own heart and ate it himself, all for shits and giggles--or maybe out of misguided pride. That's what Justin would say. And he'd be right. He was always fucking right.

It'd been three weeks filled with a strange silence from the West Coast. Justin hadn't even tried to call, hadn't emailed, or sent messages through Mikey or Debbie. In fact, instead of badgering him and calling him a shit for the way he'd behaved, the entire gang seemed to be, fuck, _pitying_ him. They patted his arm sympathetically, and all talk of Justin, or Rage, or Hollywood evaporated at his appearance.

He wanted to ask someone about it--what had they heard? What did Justin tell them? But no way in hell was he going to swallow his pride to ask. The closest thing to information had been Hunter in the diner, trying to persuade him to call Justin. Had Justin sent Hunter to talk to him? Maybe Justin was holding out, waiting for Brian to call and admit he was wrong?

Well, he _was_ wrong, dammit, and Justin knew that. Why the fuck did Justin want him to admit it? Why the fuck didn't _Justin_ just call Brian and leave a message saying, "You're a fuckhead. Call me." Why didn't he tell Mikey or Debbie to tell him, "Brian, you're being a shit. Go see him." Why was he making everything so fucking hard?

Brian rolled over onto his side, hugging the pillow from Justin's side of the bed. He could _feel_ the cell phone on the nightstand behind him.

_Because I needed to tell her how I felt. I needed to make sure that she knew she was worth it to me._

Hunter was an okay kid. Pretty smart in a way that Brian understood and respected. A little shit in other ways that Brian also understood and respected. But that bit about needing to tell her--well, it held the ring of something true, and Brian closed his eyes, his body responding to the words like a tuning fork, vibrating with the rightness of them.

Worth it to me. Worth it. To me.

::::

Cynthia made it clear that she despised reworking Brian's schedule at a moment's notice, but when she saw the itinerary for his trip sitting on his desk, she backed off. Brian glanced up in amusement when she said, "Oh! In that case, go get 'im, Tiger!"

"Move. Get to work. I don't pay you to butt into my fucking personal life."

Cynthia grinned. "Ab_so_lutely." Still, she couldn't seem to resist tossing over her shoulder, "Give Justin my best. And then give him _your_ best, stud."

Brian rolled his eyes, stuffing papers into his briefcase to review on the plane. He didn't even know if Justin would see him, much less let Brian give him his best. Brian closed his briefcase and paused for a minute. Cynthia seemed pretty damn sure that Brian wouldn't have any problem getting back in Justin's pants, if not his good graces. Did she know something Brian didn't? Had Justin been in contact with her since that fateful phone call? The one where--everything had gone wrong.

Brian thought about it for a few minutes and realized he was being paranoid, suspecting that everyone knew something he didn't about Justin. Cynthia was probably just confident because...well, she didn't even know that Justin wasn't expecting him. For all she knew, Justin was going to be waiting at the airport in nothing but a red bow and lube.

He closed his eyes and took a moment to imagine that scenario, rubbed his dick through his pants, and then snapped to attention. He only had another forty minutes to get to the airport, and with the way traffic had been, he needed to head out immediately.

::::

The flight was interminable. First they were delayed on the runway, then they were delayed in landing. Airlines were turning into something akin to government operations--shabbily run by ill-humored people in ugly clothing.

Brian was relieved to step into the cab and read out the address for Justin's place of business. Now, he'd just have to finagle a way inside the compound of the production company.

It turned out, he didn't have to. When he arrived at the gates, he discovered that his name was on a list of acceptable guests that Justin had provided when he started working with Brett. Apparently it was a rather long list, including everyone in their make-shift family, even Hunter, Cynthia, and Ted.

The office where Justin worked was pretty much the opposite of the airline employees. Everyone had a plastic smile on their plastic face, and everyone seemed to know exactly the way to Justin Taylor's office.

"Oh, yes, just keep going straight then make a left. You can't miss him."

::::

"Hey," Justin said, casually, as if Brian showed up at his desk every day of the week.

"Aren't you surprised to see me, you little shit?"

"No. I thought you'd show up eventually."

"Listen, asshole, I flew all the way out to see you. I expect some enthusiasm."

Justin looked up from his files, a smirk on his face. "And you're seeing me. I'm just busy. Working. You know, what they _pay_ me to do."

Brian glared at him. This wasn't going the way he'd expected at all. "They don't pay you to suck Conner James' cock?"

Justin's lips twitched, obviously fighting laughter. "Um, no. I do that for free."

Brian's stomach felt like ice.

"You know--if I were to suck his cock _at all_."

Brian wondered if his face showed the relief that rushed over him, weakening his knees.

"Which I _have_, because you and I aren't fucking _married_, as you love to point out."

Brian turned, ready to just walk away. Fuck this shit. He didn't need it.

Images of Pittsburgh flashed through his mind--all of them cold, miserable, lonely, and he knew it was a lie. He needed Justin and fuck if that didn't suck in a totally non-life-affirming way.

"Christ, Brian, you're such an asshole." Justin gestured toward a plastic chair shoved into the corner of his alcove. "Sit down. You're just going to have to wait for a few minutes to pick another fight with me. I'm on a fucking deadline."

"I--" Brian stopped. What was he going to say? See ya, sucker? No--he was the sucker. Be back later? No--that was just too pathetic. He had to maintain _some_ dignity. He sat down in the chair, going for a casual sprawl, but based on Justin's raised brows, coming across more like a ticking time bomb.

"Okay," Justin said, looking entirely too pleased with himself. "Just give me an hour and then we can have it out."

"And then the hot make-up sex," Brian stated, because he sure as fuck didn't fly to L.A. just to have things end in a messy face-to-face melodramatic scene straight out of a fucking soap opera.

Justin's lips twitched again as he gazed down at some files on his desk. "Yeah. Then the hot make-up sex."

Brian relaxed in the chair, leaning his head back, and closing his eyes. Everything was going to be okay. He could wait.

::::

"So," Justin began, steepling his fingers on his desk, and looking at Brian with a serious expression. "You wanted to see me?"

Brian's tongue went into his cheek and he contemplated Justin's posture. Yes, the little shit was playing a scene, a very familiar scene, and he was supposed to take the role of supplicant. Well, if Justin thought he was going to play along with that...he was quite right.

"I've been thinking it over and I decided you should take me back," Brian rolled his eyes and spoke as though reading from a script.

Justin's lips twisted in thought. "Oh? I wasn't aware that we broke up."

That wasn't in the script! That was blatant improvisation! Brian scoffed, and then said in exasperation, "I sent your fucking shit to you! What the fuck else did you think was going on?"

Justin leaned back, calm and collected. "Oh, I just thought you were being an asshole. Nothing new."

Nothing new? Fuck him.

Justin leaned forward. "Still, if you thought we were broken up, then I suppose that my indiscretions with Connor James won't be that difficult to get past, so...okay, yeah. We were broken up. Good call."

Brian's eyes narrowed. "The one fuck-only rule goes out of effect with distance, Sunshine? That would have been some interesting information to have on my end." His voice sounded deadly, dripping with sarcasm and if Justin were paying enough attention, and Brian had no doubt that he was, he'd hear some jealousy there, too.

Justin laughed, good-naturedly, sending ripples of irritation up Brian's spine. "Oh, no, I just fucked him once. The rest were--well, you know. Nothing important in the scheme of things."

Brian blinked. Fuck him for that. Fuck him.

Justin licked his lips and lowered his lashes. "Why don't we go back to what you were saying about me taking you back. Now that I'm aware that we were indeed broken up, I guess I'd like to know why in the world I'd want to do that?"

Brian sat in silence for a long moment. To dwell on the Connor Fucking James thing would make him appear weak--well, weaker than he already looked. To let it go was to...let it go. Because Justin was right. The rules were only there to prove something that didn't need to be proven anyway. They were like wedding rings. Symbols of something outmoded between them.

"Because you know what to expect from me," Brian intoned in a bored tone.

"No. That's not the right answer."

"Because I know what to expect from you." He tried again.

Justin looked incredulous. "Oh, please. What a lame reason to get back together! No, the reason I should take you back is because I love you and I'm lost without you. Repeat after me."

Brian glared.

Justin started, "'Justin, you should take me back because you love me, and you're lost without me.'" He motioned with his hand for Brian to say the words. Brian just glared harder.

"Okay, then. Good try." Justin scooted back from the desk. "Maybe you can actually say the words next time. And I've no doubt there will be a next time." Justin sighed heavily, mimicking Brian's own expression of resignation, before smiling cheerfully. "Still, you've made so much progress, that I'd hate to trigger a relapse by pushing you much further. So, we'll just leave it at that."

Justin rounded the corner of his desk, grabbed his coat, and started out the door. Brian sat and stared after him. The little shit actually came back, blinking innocently, and said, "Well, come on. It's time for the hot make-up sex. I thought you were looking forward to that part at least."

Brian sighed and heaved up, following Justin's ass down the hall past the curious gaze of Justin's co-workers.

::::

Justin was apparently being serviced by Brett's limo driver--Brian was sure that could be interpreted in more ways than one. The limo was waiting out front when they hit the front doors, and Justin climbed in first, saying, "This is Brian, Jake. We'll need privacy, please."

Brian had given the guy a once over and decided to fuck him if he got a chance at a later date. Jake, however, didn't seem to be down with that plan, giving Brian an amused glance as he shut the door behind him, saying, "Yes, sir, Mr. Taylor."

"You fucking him?" Brian asked as soon as the door was closed.

"He sucked me off once. That's it. You know, no double dipping."

Brian's eyes narrowed, recognizing the bait to bring up Conner James again. "I thought we were broken up."

Justin nodded, grinning with amusement. "Oh yeah! I forgot! I guess I could have had him again. Oh, well, he wasn't that good, anyway. He had rather large fangs."

Brian winced.

"Yeah."

"So--" Brian said, sliding down in the seat, and pushing his hips up enticingly. "When does the make-up sex begin?"

"When we've made up."

Brian scoffed. "Christ. I'm here, what more do you want from me?"

"I don't know. I haven't decided yet."

"You're not playing fair. Back at the office you said that you were going to take me back because you love me and are lost without me, or some pussy bullshit like that. So, what the fuck, Sunshine?"

"Maybe I'm just playing hard to get. Sometimes it's fun to be the one twisting _your_ balls for a change."

"I'm offended. I've never twisted your balls. I have much too much experience and expertise in the area of ball handling to be accused of twisting."

"Hmm, so I love you and I'm lost without you, huh?" Justin laughed, looking at Brian with glowing eyes. "I can't believe you actually just said that pussy bullshit."

Brian scoffed and looked out the window, settling in for a good sulk.

"Don't pout, Brian. I'll blow you in a minute. I just want you to tell me something first."

Brian lifted a shoulder and let it fall again, indicating that he might be willing to play this game.

"Why did you come out here?"

"Huh?"

"Why'd you fly all the way out here, huh? I mean, surely you could get an ass almost as good as mine if you were horny, so why?"

"Because of Hunter," Brian said, damning the kid in his mind. "Fucking brat."

Justin's face twisted in confusion. "Because of _Hunter_? That's the last fucking thing I would have thought you were going to say."

"He had some bullshit story about being in love with some girl and she wouldn't listen to him tell her, so he had to follow her around and shit until he could get it across to her, because he's got HIV and is going to fucking die and doesn't have time for fucking regrets, or some bullshit, asshole story like that."

Justin's face was soft, and he blinked slowly at Brian from across the limo. "Wait, so Brian, are you saying that when you screamed at me that I wasn't coming home, and then sent my shit to me--you were really telling me that you loved me and were afraid of losing me? And I didn't hear you, so you flew out here to make sure that I knew?"

Brian rolled his eyes, wrapped his arms over his chest, and looked out the window, wanting to deny it.

"Oh my God. You're so fucking annoying, Brian. I heard you the first time, you know. I knew you loved me and were just afraid of losing me. Still, it's nice that you flew out here to make sure that I knew. I mean, it's so much more _normal_ and _reasonable_ and not at all _emotionally stunted_ or fucked up. Good job, Mr. Kinney. I applaud you."

Brian shook his head minutely as Justin actually fucking clapped his hands. "Very fucking funny."

Justin slid over beside him, his lips were warm and wet. Brian couldn't get enough of his taste, and he pressed his tongue deeper into his mouth. Time slipped and stood still, until Justin's hands were on Brian's zipper, and Justin was whispering, "Okay, now comes the make-up sex. Are you ready? Because it's going to be good."

Brian let his head fall back as Justin's mouth began its descent.

::::

"What if I hadn't come?" Brian asked.

Justin smiled, glowing in the after-bliss of their fuck. The limo was still driving around L.A., and had even stopped for gas while Brian was rimming Justin's ass. The locker-room humor of it had made him laugh until Justin had flipped over, grabbed his head, and shoved his dick in Brian's mouth.

Brian had no idea how long they'd been driving, and didn't know when Justin planned on directing them to his temporary home.

"Oh, you always come."

Brian didn't laugh. Justin knew what he meant, and Brian wanted an answer.

Justin looked into his eyes. "Like I said, you always come." He let the words sink into Brian's consciousness before saying, "And if you hadn't, then you would have died old and alone with no one to shave your wrinkled old mug, or wipe your ass."

Brian glared.

"Or maybe I would've come after you. I don't know, Brian. I just knew that you'd come for me."

Brian said huskily, "Well, with that tight ass, how could I not?"

"I love you, Brian." Justin slapped his chest with the back of a hand. "You fucking asshole."

Brian kissed Justin roughly, grabbing handfuls of his hair, trying to show him how overtaken he felt with emotion. Justin kissed him back with equal fervor, and when the limo driver buzzed into the back asking if it was time to go home, Justin rapped on the window between them to tell him to keep on driving.

 

THE END

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to my beta readers: andtheafterglow, msjudi, and supergrover24. All remaining errors are mine alone.
> 
> I wrote this one for [](http://community.livejournal.com/fandom_aid/profile)[**fandom_aid**](http://community.livejournal.com/fandom_aid/), but was never completely satisfied with it, so I didn't post. Mainly because this story has been done before and to make it memorable it would need to be much longer and a lot more effort would need to be put in. But, again, see above about how it has been done before (by me, even!) and therefore getting up the oomph to make it all that it could be was just not going to happen. So, I should just accept that and post it. So, I am accepting and I am posting.


End file.
